Digging Deeper
by Mrs. Mumford
Summary: New friends and a new future are what await Marcia at Hogwarts. But as their secrets gradually grow closer to the surface, they may end up unearthing some of her own. Rating is subject to change.
1. Chapter 1

**I have absolutely no idea where this is going to go, or if I'm even going to finish it.**

**There will probably be several different pairings(All OC/?).**

**The Golden Trio no longer goes to Hogwarts.**

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><p>All I could see were my inner eyelids.<p>

The only sounds were bubbling tea, the clock's minute hand ticking away on the wall, and the slightly muted sounds of people talking.

It was almost like a lullaby to me, and combined with how exhausted I was, I was slipping closer and closer to sleep.

Only did I jolt awake when I felt a gust of air, along with something that lightly hit my elbows. I forced my eyelids apart and stared down at whatever had assaulted my almost-sleep. It was a thin, white piece of paper, telling me the total amount of money needed.

"The bill. For your tea?" Said the waitress, all the while giving me a strange look.

Oh, that's right. I was in a tea shop.

I sighed and gave her the correct amount of pounds. _Great, now I look even more stupid, _I thought, sipping my hot beverage.

Why had I almost fallen asleep, sitting alone at a table in this busy tea shop, you ask?

Well, mostly because I didn't get much sleep. I had stayed up studying math, even though it was summer break.

No matter how hard I tried, I always failed nearly every class at school. Except for English and Literature classes- I loved those. I loved everything having to do with it; reading, writing, poetry, songwriting… too bad I couldn't get higher marks in anything else.

I sighed heavily again, watching everyone bustle around and laugh at their friend's remarks. Nearly all of them were my classmates from school. For a reason no one knows, they all come here on many evenings to interact.

I didn't know why I even bothered coming; nobody ever tried to make friends with me. It's like I was invisible. I picked up my drink and as I made my way towards the door I tossed it in the waste bin.

I shouldn't have even come. The tea wasn't very good, anyway.

I was relieved when I made it outside and I started along the sidewalk towards my home. I lifted my face to the sky, parting my lips slightly to draw in the fresh smell of the clean, earthy air. It was so good to taste it's pureness after the hot, overwhelming aroma of tea. I felt myself smile a bit into the open air.

The small smile faded when I felt hot wind and the smell of gasoline rush over me as a car rushed by. I turned my head to look at it, and horror instantly flooded over me.

There was a small boy, maybe four or five years old, in the middle of the street.

The car was heading straight forward; apparently the driver didn't see the toddler in the road.

At that moment, I didn't think.

I merely acted.

I flung my bag to the concrete and broke into a run towards the street. My legs were pumping, muscles screaming. Would I get there fast enough?

My shoes pounded the concrete and I screeched to halt in front of the small child, planting my feet firmly on the ground and spreading my arms out. I didn't have time to think what an idiot I was, facing an oncoming car like this.

The only thing running through my mind was _Turn, damn it! Turn around! _

I squeezed my eyes shut, ready to face whatever was given to me.

It was then that I felt it. It was like a huge physical draining, causing my arms to go limp and my legs to shake like jelly.

My knees buckled beneath me, and I fell unconscious on the black tar of the road.

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><p>I don't remember when I returned to consciousness.<p>

What I do remember is that it happened gradually- first my smell started to return. Whenever I breathed in, I caught the scent of hot cement.

Next came my hearing and touch. I felt the ground hard and unforgiving beneath me, and I heard someone talking. This voice was rich, deep, and calm, obviously a man, but he was making absolutely no sense.

He was murmuring nonsensical little things from, what I could tell, was right above me. Finally I was able to open my eyes.

As I suspected, the person was kneeling beside me. He was an older man, with a tall and lean build and light brown hair flecked with gray. As if he sensed my awareness, his eyes flitted over and locked with mine.

"Hello," the man said softly. "Are you feeling alright?"

As I was about to respond, I noticed he was wielding a long, thin stick.

"What are you doing with that?" I asked wearily, keeping my eyes locked on the could-be weapon.

He glanced down at it. "This? Well… that's quite a long story, one you might not be inclined to believe. I will explain it to you though. First you need to tell me if you're feeling ok." He said, searching my face with concern. I registered that his eyes were the beautiful pale gray of a dove's feathers, with an unmistakable bluish tinge.

To my surprise, I did feel well. "Yes… I'm fine." I reassured him quietly. How could I be ok if I was run over by a car?

_Was I run over by a car? _

"What just happened?" I asked. He held up a finger. "Just one more thing. What is your name?" He said.

I was growing frustrated. "Marcia. Marcia McFlint." I informed him. "And you are?" "Remus Lupin. Pleasure to meet you." He then held out his hand.

I pushed myself into a sitting position and shook it. His was large and warm around mine. I waited patiently for him to explain this to me, though inside I was urging him on.

He sighed. "There's no easy way to say this. You'll probably think I'm insane. But I'll just tell you straightforward." He paused. Continued more quietly.

"When you stood in front of that car, you moved it. With your mind, and your apparently strong willpower." I was silent with shock. _What on earth is he talking about? _

"No, you're not a psycic, and you're not alone." Remus continued. Then he leaned in slightly, his eyes intently fixed on mine.

"You're a witch."

I stared at him.

He was certainly out of his right mind.

Positively mad as a hatter.

There were no such thing as witches.

But this man didn't _seem _crazy. He came off as intelligent. _And handsome, _a part of me added, the part I immediately scolded thereafter.

"What?" I said, in nothing more than a hushed whisper. He took a deep breath.

"There is a hidden community of wizards, witches, and magic. It's all around us. Muggles- err, regular humans- can't see it." When he finished speaking, there was another awkward pause.

I swallowed rather painfully. "Look- there must be some sort of misunderstanding. I'm not a witch, or anything special for that matter." I finally managed.

Now a smile spread across his face. "You are mistaken, Ms. McFlint. You are, indeed, special. How else do you suggest you moved that car?" He said. I didn't answer, because in truth, I did not have a clue.

_Could I really be-? _

"Is that a wand?" I decided to venture, pointing at the stick he was brandishing. Remus nodded. "Indeed it is." He confirmed. He held it up and flicked the tip very slightly. Red sparks shot from the tip, fading into blue and eventually green.

"How-?" I choked on my words.

The corner of his lip twitched. "Magic." He said simply.

There had to be some other possible explanation. Anything at all.

I racked my brain; nothing.

I felt a smile slowly move across my lips. Remus's grin matched mine. "See? You're not a nobody, Ms. McFlint. You have magical powers beyond what any Muggle could dream of." It was surreal thinking that I could be anything other than the shy, unpopular, invisible girl. I couldn't quite wrap my mind around it.

"My mum would never believe this." I said quietly. "Already taken care of," He reassured, "There was an owl sent to your house with a letter of your admission to Hogwarts."

Obviously, I didn't process a single coherent meaning from this statement.

"I beg your pardon?" I said politely.

"Oh, my apologies, I seem to have forgotten that you're Muggle-born. In the wizarding world, we use owls as a means of communication. We give them letters or packages and send them off to whoever we want the to deliver to. And Hogwarts- short for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry- is exactly what it sounds like; an academy for young people with magical powers."

It took a moment for this to settle in. Add that to the effects of this man's soothing honey-like voice and incredible attractiveness, and I was tongue tied.

When I finally managed to speak, the brilliance that spouted from me was, "Can you give me directions to this place?"

He chuckled. "Of course I will." He took my hand and helped me up; I now noticed he was quite tall. "Do you live nearby, or do you need help getting there?" He asked. "My home's just down the street." I replied.

Then, feeling my brow furrow, I continued, "I hope you don't mind me asking, but… being a wizard, shouldn't you be all-knowing or something?"

The smile that curled his lips(which were notably full and tantalizing, by the way) was gentle and rather sad. "On the contrary, my dear, power does not equate to knowledge."

Silence, not awkward, lapsed over us.

The fact that he called me "my dear" struck me. It wasn't in that patronizing way that most adults acknowledge children with that title. It was as if he was talking to an old friend, an equal, and I liked him even more for it.

The pause only continued for a few moments before Remus broke it by clearing his throat. "I'd best be leaving now. I'll send you the directions and the things you'll need for Hogwarts- you can expect them to come by owl."

He smiled again, and this one lacked the distinct sadness of the previous. "Goodbye, Miss McFlint." He said, stepping back a bit and bowing ever so slightly.

I gave a tiny awkward wave in addition to my quiet farewell. With that, Remus flashed me one more smile, turned around, and vanished.

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><p><strong>There's the first chapter. <strong>

**Review and tell my how you like it, at least so I know if it's worth continuing.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter two. **

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><p>The next few weeks till summer break ended seemed to last an eternity.<p>

Half of me was grateful for this; the same half that dreaded my start at this new school.

I mean, seriously… although I had proof that this place(in the form of the school books and robes I had recently purchased for this new school and the letter my mother had received), this school for witches and wizards, actually existed, the whole idea was still surreal.

I often found myself wondering, _Is this really happening? Or is this all one big joke at my expense?_

Well, now I got to find out.

I had just arrived at the train station where, according to Mr. Lupin's instructions, I would board a vehicle named the Hogwarts Express at the Kings Cross Station and, if I wasn't mistaken, at platform 9 ¾.

I was wandering around the station alone, glancing at my watch every minute or so and trying to find the platform. My mother had been acting cold and distant ever since she had received the, um, "owl," that notified her of where I would be attending school.

She was my only parent; my dad had left before I was born.

I remembered standing there, facing her as she faced the mirror. I had thought at that moment how she looked nothing like me. She had always told me I looked like my father.

I think she resented me for it.

The only thing my mother an I had in common were the shape of our eyes, even if hers were walnut brown and mine were somewhere in the pale gray/green spectrum.

"Where did you come up with this silly joke?" Aubrey McFlint had asked, distracted, as she fixed her straight platinum hair.

I subconsciously reached for my own faintly red-tinted caramel colored hair, which drifted just past my shoulders. It was in between curly and straight, as if it couldn't make up its mind. I wished it would hurry up and decide which it wanted to be.

"I'm not making this up, mum. I'm dead serious. There's no way I could have made an _owl _fly in here and give you a letter." I said.

My mother sighed and turned her perpetually glaring eyes on me. "I don't have time for this, Marcia." She said, an irritated edge to her voice. I held her glare with my own for a few moments, then turned and left the room.

I was used to that happening when I proved a point to her.

So she had dropped me off without speaking two whole words to me.

"Platform 7... Platform 8..." I mumbled to myself as I passed each platform. Now I came to Platform 9. Confusion filled me to the brim, and I felt my brow furrow that the sight before me.

All there was between Platforms 9 and 10 was a large stone structure.

No Platform 9 ¾.

_What kind of sick prank is this? _I thought. My heart sinking, I turned around and prepared to find a payphone to call my mother. "I should have known…" I muttered under my breath.

"Having trouble?"

My head snapped up in the direction of the voice. A tall, rail-thin girl about my age with dark golden brown hair stood before me, raising an eyebrow to emphasize her question.

"A bit," I admitted, "But I won't go into detail. If I did, you would believe me to be mental."

A grin spread across her lips. "Ah, I knew it," she said. "Knew what?" I pressed, blinking once. "You're a witch," was her answer. Relief swept over me, but I still eyed her cautiously.

"What do you know about that?" I asked wearily. The other girl laughed lightly. "I know plenty. I should; I'm one, too."

I relaxed a bit. "Do you happen to know anything about Platform 9 ¾?" I said.

She nodded, still smiling. "I do. Here, I'll show you," She said, taking my hand.

Without further adieu, she lead me towards the large stone barrier between 9 and 10, changing from a brisk walk to a run.

I squeezed my eyes shut, gripping my trunk for dear life, bracing myself for impact.

It didn't come.

We were slowing to a halt, releasing each other's hands, and I carefully peeled open my eyelids...


	3. Chapter 3

"It's real," I breathed, unable to keep the grin from my face even if I wanted to.

In front of us was a grand red steam engine, with the words HOGWARTS EXPRESS proudly lettered in gold on the front. The train was slowly being filled with students, whose parents and siblings were out front saying their good-byes.

"Of course it is," the girl said, and although I didn't look at her, I could hear a smile of her own in her voice.

Now I turned to her. "Why didn't you just tell me I could go through that?" I asked. She shrugged. "It wouldn't have been much fun that way, would it? I'm Bridget Goodwin, by the way." She said, holding out her hand.

"Marcia McFlint. Nice to meet you." I greeted, shaking her offered hand.

Bridget smiled. "We're going to be good friends," she mused. Without giving me a chance to respond to this odd prediction, she picked up her trunk once more and gestured to the train.

"Shall we?" She asked. "We shall," I responded, lifting my trunk and following her onto the giant steam engine. We found an empty compartment near the end of the corridor and heaved the trunks into the overhead compartments.

"So, I'm assuming you're Muggle-born?" Bridget asked, not unkindly, after I slid the sliding glass door shut and sat down across from her. "Yes, I am," I said, remembering the word Muggle to mean human. "And you are…?"

"I'm a Half-Blood." She answered, "That means half Muggle, half witch." I nodded my understanding. "And you know nothing about Witchcraft and Wizardry, and all that jazz?" She pressed further.

"I haven't a clue," I confessed.

Bridget smiled and leaned back, crossing one leg over the other and folding her hands together in her lap. "All shall be explained," she reassured.

And then, the witch launched into an explanation of too many things in this strange new world I was entering to count.

The war, Harry Potter and the Golden Trio, Voldemort, Dumbledore… her tales were only interrupted by the Honeydukes Express cart, where I dined on my first Chocolate Frog(which I cared for more than I would ever admit).

"I believe that's about it… oh, no it's not! I was so wrapped up in the war and such that I completely forgot one of the basics! There are four houses that each student can be in: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. When we get to Hogwarts, each first year's going to be sorted into one of those houses by this weird talking hat called the Sorting Hat, which can apparently read your mind."

Compared to the other things I'd heard that day, hearing about this talking hat didn't surprise me that much.

"Where do you think you'll be placed?" I asked. Bridget didn't hesitate before responding.

"Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart! Their daring, nerve, and chivalry set Gryffindors apart." She recited proudly, then added, "My whole family- except for my father, cause, you know, he was a Muggle- have been in Gryffindor."

Then she paused, studying me for a moment.

She had blonde hair and brown eyes like my mother, but where my mother's eyes and hair were icy and cold, Bridget had bright bronzy blonde hair and eyes as deep and warm as chestnuts.

"Is something wrong?" I asked, shifting awkwardly. She seemed to break out of a trance. "No," she said, "I was just… thinking."

After another few second pause, she said, "You're going to be in Gryffindor, too." I furrowed my brow in confusion.

"Why do you think that?" I asked.

"I don't think. I _know,_" she told me, smiling, "I'm a Seer. I come from a long line of them. I haven't gotten premonitions yet, but I sense things that others don't."

Before I could respond to this new claim, Bridget stood and looked out the window. "We'll be at Hogwarts soon. We should change into our robes."

We fished our robes from our trunks and went to adorn them. Once mine were on, I frowned at my reflection in the mirror.

The sleeves hung down over my hands at least an inch, and the robes billowed loose from my body, making me look rather large. I made my way back to the compartment, where Bridget was closing up her trunk.

"How did you do that?" I asked, gesturing to her robes, which she had managed to fit better. "I'll help you," she said, walking over and adjusting my robes. Now they weren't quite so loose. "Thanks," I said. She smiled. "No problem," she said, as the train was pulling to a stop.

"Here we are!" Bridget announced, excitement shining in her eyes. My heart quickened; even with my new friend's detailed description of the Wizarding world, I still had no idea what to expect.

I was bustled off the train with all the other students, staying as close to Bridget as possible so as not to get lost. Outside, there were other, older students waving for different aged students to join them.

"Firs'-years, over here! Firs'-years!" Came a booming voice over the rest.

I turned in the direction of the voice and, standing in front of me, was a wide, bearded man standing at about eleven or twelve feet tall.

I'll spare you my reaction, for it involved a few swear words.

That was something strange about me; I appeared so polite and quaint in public, but that was just because I was eternally socially awkward.

Deep down, I believed I could be friendly, and funny. I had just never had friends to see what that real me was like. The only two traces of it I had ever seen were when I had been on the train and had laughed with Bridget, and my habit of swearing.

"Bloody hell, you've got the mouth of a sailor!" Bridget said as we were herded into a boat.

I smiled sheepishly. "My mother always told me I had the mouth of ten." We laughed. I was gradually relaxing as my subconscious accepted this was all real.

There were kids crowded around me on that were just like me; whether they were unsure Muggle-borns or confident Pure-bloods, we were all in the same boat.

No pun intended.

We glided silently across the loch, and the inky black of the water gave no token as to what lurked within. From what I had heard today, I could only imagine.

My stomach was clenching spasmodically once we reached the other side. That's what nervousness and excitement did to me.

I peered at Bridget from the corner of my eye to see if her reaction was similar. I couldn't tell, though, because she was busy telling a cocky, flirtatious boy to piss off.

Before I knew it we were being ushered inside the impressive, dark castle. The dining hall was a long, stone room filled with four long, dark wooden tables, which were lined by students of all ages.

Maybe one million candles floated and gently bobbed in midair, their soft yellow light contrasting with the glittering blue-white of the stars and moon of the enchanted sky above. I saw each person in that hall turn their heads toward us in a synchronized and silent motion.

It wasn't deliberate, but it did successfully creep me out.

The other first years and I headed down the long row between two of the tables. I forced myself to keep my eyes straight ahead and not look at the eyes burning into me as I passed.

Finally we were standing before a stool with a battered, worn, old-fashioned witch hat. It seemed to produce shadowy indentations for eyes and a mouth before my very eyes.

"When I call your name, each of you will come up and I will place the hat on your head." The deputy headmistress and Transfiguration professor, Hermione Granger, announced. Then, glancing down at a list clasped in her hand, she called out the first name.

"Aguistin, Angus."

The owner of the name stepped forward from beside Bridget. It was the boy who had been pestering her earlier. He shot Bridget a suggestive smirk and winked one holly green eye. She glared at him until he just shrugged, smiled, and walked up to the stool.

"He's pretty cute," I commented to Bridget in a whisper. "He's so full of himself he'll never go hungry," she countered. I laughed softly in agreement.

Angus took a seat upon the stool, looking bored and cocky. Professor Granger positioned the hat on his head, and I could hear it grumbling to itself but couldn't make out what it was saying.

"Gryffindor!" It shouted. The students at one table stood, whooping and shouting. Grinning and running a hand through his hair, Angus joined his House. The ceremony proceeded in a similar fashion, and through my nervousness, I only remembered a few names.

"Ashdown, Caroline." "Ravenclaw!" "Bowen, Aubrey." "Slytherin!" "Connelly, Jeremiah." "Gryffindor!" "Duggan, Layne." "Hufflepuff!"

Bridget was sorted into Gryffindor, as she predicted. The Sorting Hat had barely sat on her head for seven seconds before it made it's claim. With each passing moment I became more anxious.

_Would I be sorted into Gryffindor with Bridget? What if I'm put in Slytherin? _

"McFlint, Marcia."

My heart all but stopped.

_It's just a hat, Marcia. _

The mantra bounced off the walls of my skull as I hesitantly approached the dreaded stool. Professor Granger gave me an encouraging smile and nodded towards it.

I took my seat almost cautiously, and was close to grateful when the wide brim of the hat flopped over my eyes and blocked away the prying eyes of the others.

"Ah, nervous, aren't you?" The hat chuckled, "It's alright, I don't bite. Let's see… you're quite intelligent, Ms. McFlint, but is it enough for Ravenclaw? You're also empathetic, yes, conscious of others' feelings, I don't know where that would put you… you're selfless, but you also aren't worth much to yourself… hmmm… Gryffindor would be quite suitable…"

_The brave? _I thought. _But I'm really not brave, I think you've mistaken. _

"I believe you're more courageous than you give yourself credit for," it rumbled a moment before belting out, "Gryffindor!"

I grinned from ear to ear as cheers erupted from the Gryffindor table.

"That hat was taking a long time. I was starting to get worried." Bridget commented as I sat beside her. "Me too," I admitted.

The rest of the ceremony passed more quickly than it had before. After every student was placed in their proper house, Headmistress McGonagall stood and the whole hall went silent.

"In the words of Albus Dumbledore," she said, her voice stern, yet kind, "Tuck in." A few chuckles from older students echoed in the Great Hall.

I gasped as food materialized from thin air onto the plates. "Incredible…" I murmured. As I was about to load my plate, Bridget tapped me on the shoulder.

"Let's move down a few seats." She suggested.

"Why?" I asked with slight impatience, feeling my stomach rumble. "Because after I got sorted I found these other cool Gryffindor first years. You're kind of antisocial, am I right?" She said.

I sighed. "I'm starting to see that you're rarely wrong." She smirked and concluded, "So I'll go introduce you, and help you make friends." I shrugged and stood up. "Couldn't hurt to try, I suppose."

I followed her down the table until we stopped nearly at the end in front of three people.

One was a short, voluptuous girl with a round, innocent face and pixie-cut hair as black as anthracite.

She was laughing at something the boy sitting next to her said, who was tall and heavyset with dark hair and tanned skin.

The last one, sitting on the other side of the big guy, was also laughing. He was a tad shorter than the other boy, with short hair that was deep and earthy. All in all, he was quite average looking, except for his big, smoky ebony eyes and a smile that was probably more amazing than any I'd ever seen in my life.

"Guys," Bridget interrupted, and they looked up at us. "This is my friend Marcia. Marcia, this is Kenna-" she pointed at the girl. Kenna smiled a bright, dimpled smile and shook my hand.

"-then there's Benjamin-" Bridget gestured to the tan, heavyset boy. "Hey man," he greeted, waving at me and swallowing half a roll in one chew, "Call me Ben."

"And, last but not least, that's Adrian." Bridget finished, motioning to the other boy.

Suddenly the smile was gone, replaced with a look that was, if not unkind, cool.

"Hi," Adrian said, shaking my hand. I searched his face, and must have looked pretty confused about his changed attitude, because he added flatly, "I don't know if I can trust you yet."

I cocked an eyebrow. "Same goes for you." The corners of his lips tugged upward, and a bit of the beautiful smiling boy was back.

"We'll just have to see then, won't we?" He asked, voice deepening only slightly enough for me to notice. I smirked and had no idea where this flirtatious confidence was coming from. "I guess we will."

I noticed the other were staring at us, so I looked at my feet, blushed, and took my seat beside Bridget. We ate in silence for a few moments.

"So," I said, struggling to find topic for conversation. "Uh… Ben, I didn't see you get sorted, or hear your name called. Were you up there?"

Ben's tawny brown eyes, which were framed by thin-rimmed black glasses, shone with something that appeared to be deep hurt. Kenna reached up a hand and rubbed his shoulder.

"What did I say?" I asked, looking hopelessly at Kenna and Adrian.

"It's alright, you didn't know," Kenna said, regarding me. "Ben didn't pass last year, so he has to retake first year. He's very sensitive," she explained. "Oh," I murmured, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

Suddenly, Ben's relaxed, care-free smile was back. "It's alright, man. At least I get to be in the same year as my little baby bro." The young wizard said, looking fondly at Adrian.

"You're brothers?" Bridget asked, raising an eyebrow.

"'Course we are, man! Benjamin Alon Edevane and Adrian Albern Edevane. Can't you see the resemblance?" Ben said, his smile growing as he gestured between him and Adrian.

The latter just rolled his eyes. There were little to no similarities in their looks. "Sure we do, Ben," Kenna reassured, patting his arm.

The rest of the feast was spent talking and laughing with Bridget, Kenna, Ben, and Adrian. I cared for them already. They were strange and a bit awkward like me, and could make me laugh.

After the Headmistress dismissed us to our dormitories for the night, I bade the boys farewell and followed Kenna and Bridget to the girls dorm. "So," Bridget began after they were dressed in their nightgowns and were getting ready for bed.

"Is it just me, or did I sense _something_ between you and Adrian?" I blushed very faintly.

I had always blushed fairly easily; when talking about or to guys I liked, when embarrassed, when praised, when cold, when hot.

But every time I tried to picture Adrian's charcoal eyes, I always loyally returned to Remus's pale blue orbs.

_That's a no-no, Marcia. He's old enough to be your father. _

"I havnae the foggiest notion as to what ye be talking about." I said, purposefully thickening my Scottish accent.

Bridget laughed. "Deny it all you want, my friend. But remember this; I _always _know."

In the few moments of silence that followed, she smiled. "'Night," she said, then rolled over in her bed.

I climbed into my own bed and stared up at the ceiling.

My last thought before I was asleep was to wonder how much of Bridget's statement was a joke… and how much of it wasn't.


	4. Chapter 4

It's funny, sometimes, how quickly time passes.

It's also funny how even after six years, your mind can still have trouble accepting the extraordinary world of magic.

It was quite hard to imagine sometimes, especially right now, sitting in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express and beginning my sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Marce, you there? Marcy?"

I jumped and blinked in the direction of the voice. Bridget and Kenna were staring at me from across the compartment. Besides being a bit taller, they both looked mostly the same as they always did.

Well, I guess that wasn't totally true. Bridget had let her hair grow out a tad and acquired bangs, while Kenna had her left eyebrow and lip pierced.

"Just spacing out," I explained, "What were you saying?"

A sly grin spread Bridget's lips. "We were just discussing The Adrian Mission." I rubbed the bridge of my nose and groaned in exasperation.

The Adrian Mission was exactly what it sounded like: a goal shared by Bridget and Kenna to set me up with Adrian.

"Anyways, any luck so far, Ken?" Bridget said, turning to the elfin witch, who lived two houses away from Adrian and his brother Ben. The latter shook her head regretfully. "No luck so far, I'm afraid. Every time I ever-so-subtly bring it up, he's oblivious," Kenna reported, then let loose a sigh. "Stupid boys."

Bridget clapped her hands together once. "No matter! We shall succeed eventually."

I couldn't help the smile that tugged the corners of my mouth. "You guys are ridiculous," I said. "That's why you love us!" Kenna sang.

Before we could continue the conversation, there was a knock at the door. It slid open and Angus's tall form filled the doorframe.

Although I had no interest in him, I have to admit he looked quite fit with his shock of dark russet hair, rich green eyes, and a sexy smile.

"Greetings, ladies. Is there room for one more?" He asked.

"No," Bridget said, fixing him with a flat, unwelcoming stare. Without further invitation, Angus entered the compartment, shut the door behind him, and slid onto the booth beside Bridget.

"Hello, Bridge," he said, flitting his eyebrows at her.

"You don't have permission to call me that," she snapped. The Gryffindor boy smirked at her.

"As pleasant as ever, I see," he remarked fondly.

"Yeah, you're a real breath of fresh air yourself," Bridget retorted with equal sarcasm.

They stared at each other in silence, Bridget's steely glare against Angus's suggestive smile.

They had been play this cat-and-mouse game since first year. And as good-looking as Angus was, I understood why my friend denied his advances.

Since third or fourth year he had slept with about every pretty girl that would let him.

And trust me, not many turned him down.

But he always came back to pester Bridget.

"Should Kenna and I leave? I could cut the sexual tension with a knife." I broke the silence. Kenna laughed and Bridget tried to hide a smirk.

Angus flashed me a smile and said, "It's good to see you again, dear Marcia."

"Feeling's mutual." I replied with a smile. Despite how annoying he could be, I honestly considered him a friend and a good person deep down.

"Good to see you, too, Kenna." Angus said, giving her a wink. "Good to see you, too." Kenna agreed.

The door slid open again and Adrian hurried inside, dressed in his school robes, slamming it behind him. He was leaner and taller, and he had let his hair grow out a bit within those six years. I don't know if it was just me, but his eyes appeared even darker, contrasting starkly with his cool porcelain skin, which seemed to be growing paler by the year.

"What are you up to?" I asked, slightly wearily, eyeing his hands. They were concealed from view, folded behind his back.

"Nothing," he replied, a bit too quickly. I arched an eyebrow at him, and recieved one of his trademark, breathtaking smiles.

"You know me too well, Marce," he chuckled, revealing his hands. He was holding a baggy Muggle shirt and a pair of jeans, along with some Hogwarts robes.

"I stole Ben's clothes while he was changing," Adrian said with a little impish laugh. We all laughed and Angus slapped him a high-five.

"Damnit, Adrian, do you know what you've done?" Kenna asked, staring at the clothes with unmasked terror.

Adrian looked confused. "Yes, I've pulled a master prank," he said slowly. Kenna shook her head quickly.

"We all know Ben's got no sense of embarrassment or dignity, for that matter! He'll probably be down here at any moment, and trust me, he won't be wearing-"

At that moment, as the horror of the situation dawned on all of us, Ben entered the compartment.

His undergarments were a tad too small for my liking.

"Merlin's beard! Put that away, Ben!" Bridget exclaimed as we all covered our eyes. Ben was unfazed.

"Hey, man, have any of you seen my robes? They just kind of disappeared." He said.

"Bloody hell, Ben! You win this time, just take them!" Adrian said, thrusting the clothes at his brother.

"Win what?" Ben asked over his shoulder as he was pushed out of the compartment. We made sure to lock the door behind him. Angus got to his feet.

"This is getting a bit too... intense. I'm going to go change. Cheers, my friends! I'll see you at Hogwarts!" Then, meeting Bridget's eyes, he said, "Until later, love." And before she could reply, he was gone.

"That boy infuriates me," Bridget grumbled, massaging her temples.

"You know you like him," Adrian teased. Bridget rolled her eyes at him.

"You're barking up the wrong tree, my friend," I told him, "Trust me. Kenna and I have been trying for six years with no luck at all."

Adrian smiled. "It was worth a try."

Bridget glowered, only half as angry as her expression conveyed. "Alright, Adrian, time for you to leave. Us ladies have changing to do."

He called goodbyes as he, like his brother, was forced from the compartment. With that, we changed into our school robes, entirely comfortable in front of eachother after being friends for so many years.

"Well, girls, ready to face another year?" Bridget asked.

"Ready as I'll ever be," I responded.

"It's time to shine," Kenna added.

Grabbing our baggage, we headed out into the hall and followed the other students off the express. As we were being herded towards the carriages, I heard a voice behind me.

"Marcia! Ah- Miss McFlint!"

I turned my head around and saw none other than Remus Lupin jogging towards me.

"Mr. Lupin!" I exclaimed, totally shocked. He pulled me into an embrace like we were old friends. Because we kind of were.

Over the years, we had sometimes exchanged owls back and forth. We talked about all sorts of things; literature, music, magic... the only ones who knew were myself, Bridget, and Kenna.

I didn't tell my mum.

I mean, I didnt purposefully keep it from her, but she didn't ask and I didn't tell.

She would take it the wrong way.

It wasn't like that. It really wasn't.

"It's nice to see you!" I said, "What are you doing at Hogwarts?"

That's when I noticed his briefcase.

"No way, are you..?" I started, my eyes widening.

He beat me to it. "That's right, I'm Professor Lupin now."

I grinned broadly. "Oh, that's brilliant! Congratulations, _Professor_." I said, relishing in the word. "What will you be teaching?"

"I'll be returning to my post as Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher," he told me, and even though he smiled back at me, I saw something shadowed behind his endless pale eyes. Guilt? Fear? I couldn't tell.

"Well, we really must be going. We'll be late for the feast if we stand here any longer." Remus said. "I'll see you at our first class."

"See you then," I agreed, and he hurried off. When I returned to Kenna and Bridget, they gaped at me in silence.

"What's the matter?" I asked, fidgeting.

They shared a _look, _and Kenna said, "What the hell, Marce?"

I frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"You didn't tell us this adult friend of yours was so incredibly... _fit_," Bridget accused.

I smirked in satisfaction. "You never asked," I replied as we began walking to the castle.

"Still, I believe as your friends, we need a steady stream of-" Bridget was cut off by Kenna's sudden gasp of surprise.

"Wait wait wait wait waaaait," she said, stepping in front of me and holding up her hands. "Does he _like _you?"

"Very good question, Kens!" Bridget announced. "_Does he_? Bloody hell, it's a huge taboo, but it's so romantic that-"

"Guys!" I interrupted loudly. I was blushing quite deeply- I still hadn't rid myself of that habit. "No, he doesn't like me. We're friends. That's all we ever will be."

I said these words slowly, trying my best to look them both in the eyes.

A smile spread Bridget's lips. "Sure, Marce. Just friends."

Kenna patted my shoulder and agreed. "That's all you'll ever be."

Even a deaf man could hear the sarcasm and irony in their voices.

I sighed heavily at them and we began to make our way inside. I stopped for a moment to stare up at the castle which had been my second home for years.

Little did I know then, this home of mine harboured secrets that no one could have imagined.


	5. Chapter 5

Only about a week or two into sixth year did things start to change.

I was in the Gryffindor common room with Bridget, Kenna, Adrian, and Ben, squashed on a plush red sofa between Bridget and Adrian. Half of my mind was concentrated on the book held up to my face, and half was elsewhere…

Admiteddly, it was mostly on a certain DADA teacher of mine.

Sometimes I just couldn't keep him out of my head.

I mean, it was certainly normal, right? Remus was intelligent, kind, had a mischievous streak from his days with the Marauders that he told me about.

And, bloody hell, was he attractive.

But it wasn't just that. Some of the little things about him- how he would run his hand through his hair when flustered or nervous, his quirky half-smirk and his full-blown smile, the little winks he would shoot me when I laughed at one of his jokes in class, his off-key whistling as he made tea when I sometimes came to his quarters after the day's classes were through-

those little things drove me absolutely mental.

As I was reeling in my thoughts, a bellow echoed throughought the room.

"Gryffindor beginning-of-the-year party! _Everyone's _welcome!"

I peeked over the top of my book and was greeted with the sight of Angus standing atop a table, his arms stretched out for emphasis.

"Hey, calm yo tits man," Ben said, as chill as ever, rubbing his ear.

"Yeah, we're the only ones in here," Kenna added from where she was leaning against Ben's bulky shoulder.

"My apologies," Angus said, leaping nimbly off the table and sitting in a chair facing the couch. "I seem to have a thing for theatrics."

"We know," Bridget told him, face void of expression. If she had any feelings for him at all, they were buried deep.

"Where and when is this taking place?" Adrian asked, leaning forward expectantly. Such a party animal, was Adrian. Always had been.

Angus's reply was, "Next Saturday, starts at nightfall, in this very room."

Although I was not an avid party-goer myself, I was probably going. There was really no way to avoid it, anyways.

"Any dress code?" I asked.

A sexy smirk twisted the corner of his lips. "Sexy. Casual. You decide the rest."

With that, he ventured back into the corridors, belting "Gryffindor beginning-of-the-year party!"

"Well girls, looks like we're going to Hogsemeade," Bridget said, "The trips tomorrow."

"Why?" I asked, folding one corner of my page and closing it the book.

"For dresses, of course," she replied.

"Yay! It's been so long since I've actually been shopping with people who aren't my mum," Kenna said, clapping excitedly.

"Alright, I'll go," I consented. "As long as you guys don't parade me around in some slut cloth or some clown suit."

Kenna clapped a hand over her heart in mock surprise. "I'm offended you'd doubt our fashion judgement to that extent."

"I am too, Kens," Bridget said, "You must trust us, Marce."

I smiled at them, shook my head, and turned back to my book. I was probably going to regret this.

* * *

><p>"Remus," I began. He had insisted as my friend that I call him by his first name when not in class. "Do you know anything about the House parties that students sometimes host?"<p>

He returned from the kitchen of his living quarters and placed a steaming cup of tea in front of me. I thanked him and took a sip.

"As a matter of fact, I do," he replied, "Technically they're not against the rules, but the Professors are weary of what goes on in them."

He raised one eyebrow a bit and a half smirk of amusement graced his lips. "Why do you ask? Not thinking of hosting one, are you?"

I laughed lightly and shook my head. "But truthfully," I hesitated, wondering if he'd be disappointed in me. "I'm going to one."

"Ah, Gryffindor parties. I remember all too well..." He murmured, trailing off nostalgically for a moment and chuckling at something. "James and Sirius use to drag me to those all the time. They always got pretty... wild."

I cringed a bit. "Are they really that bad?"

"Well, not _always. _It depends on who's hosting them, I suppose. Who's throwing this one?" He said.

"Angus Aguistin," I admitted.

Remus laughed. "Ah, that young man sometimes reminds me of James and Sirius themselves."

I gulped. "Oh, great. That can't be a good sign of how this party will turn out."

He smiled at me with a trace of sympathy. "Was it specified what kind of party it was?"

"Angus said it was a 'Gryffindor beginning-of-the-year party. Just looking for an excuse to have one, I suppose," I explained, and added, "There was one more thing."

I hesitated before I said, "Sexy/casual."

A small frown twisted his lips. "He said that?"

I nodded, wondering if he was going to chastise me.

But I knew Remus wasn't like that.

He just sighed and lightly gripped my shoulder. I hope he didn't notice me blushing.

"Just be careful, alright?" He murmured.

I nodded again. "Thank you, Remus," I said softly.

He smiled comfortingly and squeezed my shoulder gently before pulling back.

_Bloody hell, he drives me mental._


	6. Notice

**I haven't updated this story for a while, due to lack of interest on the viewer's part and, admittedly, mine.**

**If there were actually any people who liked this story, I'm very sorry.**


	7. Chapter 6

Just another Tuesday evening at the Gryffindor dining table.

The dresses were purchased. I had narrowly managed to escape the dresses Bridget and Kenna tried to force me in, which were sexy but bordering hooker-esque.

Don't get me wrong, the dress was still sexy. I couldn't escape that aspect.

As I was contemplating if the dress was too much for prudish old Marcia for the fifty-thousandth time(hey, almost every dress was), Adrian suddenly stood from the table, causing the people around us to stare.

"Um... something wrong, Adri?" Kenna asked, staring at him oddly from big hazel eyes.

He paused, as if contemplating her question, before shaking his head. "No, nothing's wrong. Just an idea. I need... I need to go out for a moment."

Another pause. Then he turned to me. "Marce, would you mind coming with me? Please?"

I blinked in confusion and caught Bridget's eye for a split second; she was suggestively raising her eyebrows at us. Ugh.

"Ah... alright," I relented, standing. He smiled and, without saying anything more, turned and walked briskly out of the Great Hall. I cast a helpess glance over my shoulder at my friends before hurrying to catch up with him.

"So, where exactly are we going?" I asked, my voice shaking as I jogged to keep his pace.

"Outside," he answered. I wondered if I heard a trace of sharpness or irritation in his voice, or if it was just my imagination. In any case, I was silent the rest of the journey to the doors.

Once there, I said, "Are you sure it's alright to be out this late?"

He turned and smirked at me. If he was irked before, it wasn't showing now. He could be so weird sometimes. "No idea."

He began walking, seeming to know exactly where he was going. I just followed; sometimes, when it came to Adrian, that was all you could do. Thankfully, he had slowed down a bit.

Adrian came to a sudden halt as the trees thinned, and I almost crashed into him. I realized we had stopped on a rock that overlooked the lake.

I looked at him from the corner of my eye; he was nodding slowly. "This is good," he mused, "this is good." He sat down heavily and crossed his legs out in front of him. When I hesitated, he looked up at me expectantly.

I didn't really have a choice, so I took a seat next to him. We didn't talk for a while.

Silences with Adrian were never awkward. When there was nothing to say, there was nothing to say. Sometimes just being in his prescence could be the most soothing thing in the world.

Other times, though, he could be so jumpy and on edge that he could snap into a rage in a split second. As his friends, we'd grown use to it.

That was Adrian. Black or white. Hot or cold. Friend or foe. Mostly he was the friend, though. The funny, charming friend.

The night grew older. There was no trace of sun left. Now the sky was a dark, velvety mass, jeweled with stars that glinted coldly like eyes peering down on us. The moon, round and glowing and beautiful, occupied the middle of the sky. Her twin gleamed up at her from the black surface of the loch.

I was shocked from my admiration of the night by a sound like a quill scribbling on parchment.

It turns out, my prediction was pretty accurate.

I turned my head and saw Adrian had somehow produced a notepad with thick, yellowed parchment and an inky black quill and was drawing something with swift strokes.

He seemed to sense my eyes and when he looked up at me and paused in his work, I quirked an eyebrow and asked, "Where'd you get that...?"

"I pulled it out of my arse," he responded with a smirk. I laughed and he admitted, "Silent Accio."

"Very nice," I commented. "May I see your drawing?" He handed me the note pad. "It's... me."

His sketch depicted me, just as I had been sitting a second ago. My arms hugged my legs to my chest, and my hair streamed down my back and pooled over my shoulders, with some stray curls falling across my face. The lines were etched sharp and jerky like someone had drawn it on a caffeine rush, but in a way that was purposeful like he knew exactly what he was doing.

"This is very good- it's brilliant," I said, handing it back to him. "Did you bring me out here just to do that?"

"No. Actually, yes," he told me. I asked, "Why me?"

"Becuase. Your facial features are the most... interesting. I wanted to draw you."

I felt my lip twitch at his description. I already knew I wasn't the prettiest girl around, so I guess he was pretty accurate. My nose was a bit long, but it didn't look too bad with my other features; deep set eyes, lips on the larger side, a long, heart shaped face. I wasn't beautiful, not ugly either. I'd never cared much what I looked like.

"No, that's not a bad thing. Good interesting," He amended, thinking I was offended.

"Thanks, I guess," I mumbled, smiling. His grin reflected mine.

"Mr. Edevane, Miss McFlint. What are you doing out this late?"

The snappy and irritated voice caused us both to jump, as if we were guilty.

I turned around and saw Remus walking through the trees towards us.

"R- Professor," I greeted, springing to my feet to face him. Adrian followed my lead.

Remus looked... different. He was still the same man, sure, but his face appeared paler, the bags under his tired eyes more defined than ever. An unexpected pang of fear shot through me seeing my friend like this.

_My Professor, _I reminded myself. _He's my Professor as well._

"Well?" Remus pressed, his brow furrowing deeper.

I opened my mouth. Couldn't find words. Closed it.

"I'm sorry, Professor Lupin. It's my fault. I needed some fresh air, and I made Marcia come out here with me," Adrian said smoothly. They locked eyes and for a moment it wasn't a look between a teacher and student. It was like each was daring the other to look away first, and I'll admit, the intensity in those few seconds freaked me out a bit.

"Alright. Don't do it again. Five points from Gryffindor," Remus said. Adrian dipped his head, breaking eye contact and starting back to the castle.

When he was reasonably out of earshot I said in nothing more than a hushed breath, "Remus, why are you doing this? We weren't near the Forbidden Forest or anything. There's nothing out here to harm us."

His eyes glinted as he rumbled, "You might be surprised by how wrong you are, Miss McFlint."

The words and the use of my surname stung more than I expected. "Remus, what's wrong?"

For a split second, some of the tense lines of his face disappeared as his expression softened. He murmured, "You're ok, Marce. You and Mr. Edevane are alright. That's all that matters."

He cleared his throat and said, more sternly, "Off you go, then. To your dorm."

His briskness hurt. I stared up at him one second longer before I whipped around and walked stiffly back to the castle. He didn't follow me, and I didn't wonder why until much later.

* * *

><p>Back in my dorm room, I was flooded with questions from my friends. I hadn't expected anything less.<p>

"What happened?"

"Nothing happened. We talked. He drew me."

"He _drew _you? What, like, naked or something?"

"What? No! You're awful."

"Did you snog?"

"There was no snogging."

"Skin-to-skin contact?"

"No. Negative. Nada. _Nothing happened_," I said, climbing under my covers and ending the conversation with, "Good night."

Silence.

"...Skin-to-thin-layer-of-clothing-contact...?"

I raised my middle finger in the air. There was laughter then, finally, silence.

Adrian and I hadn't snogged, or even touched for that matter.

Then why did it seem so much more intimate?

I sighed and rolled over.

_Boys are too confusing._

_Men are too confusing, _I added mentally, thinking of Remus.

_That's the male gender for you._


	8. Chapter 7

**Warning: the rating's about to go up to T. There will be swearing and refrences to adult themes in the near future. And maaaaybe some drinking ;)**

* * *

><p>I found myself to be nervous that night.<p>

No particular reason. Just me and my damned nerves acting up as always.

Facing my reflection, I tried to force my stomach to unclench from it's nervous knot. Maybe it was the outfit; I _never _wore anything this fancy.

The dress was bright, rich red, my "color" according to Bridget and Kenna. It had spaghetti straps and the neckline hung low enough that it showed off the whole pale expanse of my neck and collarbone, along with a hint of cleavage. It clung to the gentle curve of my waist and hit my knee at the lowest point, though the skirt was slanted in such a way that half of one thigh was bared.

In the makeup area, I got away with just some blush, mascara, lipgloss, and eyeshadow. They tried to force me into some _rediculously _purple eyeshadow, because it would bring out the green in my eyes, but I told them there was no green left in my eyes.

It wasn't a lie. My eyes used to be more green than gray, but over the years they had seemed to turn a stormy, true gray. I got away with a more natural brown shadow.

I was completely ready. What was keeping me here?

"Getting into your zen party mode?" Bridget's teasing voice came from behind me as her reflection joined mine in the mirror. Her dress was violet purple with some faint traces of pink(she was a huge fan of pink, oddly enough), and clung to her too-thin frame all the way from the straps to where it stopped mid-thigh. The fabric was textured to give the illusion of curves.

"You could say that," I said with a smirk. "Where's Ken?"

"Already partying," my friend replied, raising an eyebrow and tapping a non existent watch on her wrist. "We're late."

"I know, I know," I said, acknowleding the beat of music coming through the walls. "I'm ready."

"Finally," she muttered, then continued more brightly, "Time to shine."

I gave a smile and she linked her arm through mine as we opened the door and descended the steps into the common room. I was very grateful when little to no people turned their heads to watch us. I felt uncomfortable being stared at like that.

"Look at this. It's an absolute madhouse, and Angus isn't even here yet," Bridget mumbled, probably more to herself than to me.

It was true. The music was blasting from some speakers we couldn't locate, a mixture of Muggle and Wizard music. The bassline shook the walls and supplied the beat for the many dancers.

The furniture had been pushed against the walls, and the room seemed bigger, somehow. That's odd.

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's find Ben and Adrian and Kens," Bridget said. We threaded our way through the tightly knit mass of people to wear we could make out the tall, broad form of Ben.

"Hey there Benji," Bridget greeted when we reached him.

"Lookin' good," I told him. He was wearing a black t-shirt that had the design of a fancy tuxedo on the front.

He smiled, "Hey guys. Thanks, you are too."

"Where's Adrian and Kenna?" Bridget asked him, searching the crowd, who were now jumping in time to the music.

"Haven't seen Adrian, but Kenna's out there somewhere. Oh, there she is," he said, pointing her out. We quickly made out the winter white of her short, flirty, strapless dress. The color stood out against her dark hair and olive skin. She was dancing as wildly, if not more so, as the rest.

"Well, come on Marcy, let's join Kenna in the party world," Bridget said, tugging my arm.

"You go. I'll catch up. I need a moment to... take it all in," I urged. She shrugged and passed through the rift between the sane sidelines and the dangerous rave.

"Why aren't you out there, Ben?" I asked, leaning against the wall beside him.

"Eh, I'm not much for parties. I'm more of a mellow person I think," He answered.

I smirked to myself. "I couldn't tell," I said, keeping the sarcasm from entering my voice. I continued, "Well, you're in good company. I'm not much of a party animal either."

"Greetings Gryffindors!" A voice boomed, magnified by magic, over the music. Cheers erupted, and the crowd parted in a circle. In the middle stood none other than Angus, looking like a right showbiz announcer in his slacks, white button up, and dusky brown waistcoat, speaking into his wand like a microphone.

"Oh good grief," I muttered.

"Now, let's make this a _real _party!" He exclaimed, resulting in whoops of agreement.

Angus half grinned. "Boys," He started, snapping his fingers, "Bring it in!"

Three of his friends whose names I didn't know ran inside, holding three huge crates over their heads like trophies.

The Gryffindors went almost dead silent as they set the crates down and pried one open. Angus reached into one and pulled something out.

"Firewhiskey!" He bellowed, hoisting a large glass bottle over his head. The students cheered raucausly.

"Oh," I murmured, "It's that kind of party."

_What have I gotten myself into now?_

"I'll be set up in the corner over there," Angus said, pointing to the far right corner of the room. "Come see me if you need a little kick in the arse... or if you want some firewhiskey."

He left to set up his bar in the corner of the room. I turned to Ben, gesturing at Angus, "Did you know there was going to be... alcohol here?"

His amber brown eyes gleamed impishly and a chuckle bubbled deep in his chest, "Maybe a little."

I groaned with exasperation. "Why didn't you tell me?"

He chuckled again, "You didn't ask."

I sighed at him, resting my head against the wall and surveying the room. Bridget and Kenna were already in line. Adrian was nowhere in sight.

Until now.

He walked in as if he walked into crazy drunken raves every night. He probably did. He wore dark pants, a white shirt with the top two buttons open, and a black suit jacket over it. Carelessly handsome.

The second thing I noticed was the girl beside him.

The girl holding onto his arm.

I vaguely remembered her name to be Maya. She had long, dark, wavy hair and round blue eyes. She was the kind of girl that was so petite that she made almost every girl feel brutish, even if you were as short as I was.

I don't know if I felt jealous. I fancied Remus. I didn't fancy Adrian.

Right?

"Love's a bitch, ain't it, man?" Ben asked from beside me. I looked up at him and noticed I'd been staring at Adrian.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I mumbled, blushing that I'd been caught.

With that, I made my way over to Angus to ask him _what the hell? _The line had disappeared.

"Why hello, Marcy. You're looking smashing. I didn't peg you as the firewhiskey type," he greeted.

"Maybe that's because I'm not. You brought _alchohol_?"

He laughed and smirked at me. "It's a Gryffindor party, love. Of course I brought alcohol."

I rolled my eyes at him.

"So I assume you won't be having any?" He asked.

I caught myself staring again at Adrian and Maya. They were on the dancefloor now, moving with the beat, so close together, so freaking _suggestively..._

_Ugh. Why should I care who he dances with? Or who he dates, for that matter? I don't like him. Do I? _

_I just need to lose myself for a while. I need an escape._

I glanced now at the firewhiskey. The label read Ogden's Old.

_It's not a crime. I just need to get out of my own thoughts for a while. Get out of my mind. _

"Actually," I said, tearing my gaze away from the couple, "Pour me a glass."

Angus smirked. "Smart girl. I knew you'd come around," he commented, raising the bottle expertly up and down as he filled a cup to the brim. His smile grew wider as he handed to me.

"Enjoy."

I picked it up and stared into it for a moment; the liquid was fiery orange.

I didn't give myself a chance to change my mind.

Without a single second more of hesitation, I tilted my head back and tipped the cup upside down, tossing it all back. It burned rather uncomfortably as it slid down my throat, but once it was down I felt light headed. Pleasantly so.

Like I could do _anything _and _everything._

"Atta girl!" Angus said, his eyebrows shooting into his hairline. "I didn't know you had it in you."

I giggled. It sounded weird, I wasn't a giggly kind of girl.

But nope. I needed more. I wasn't far enough gone yet.

I wanted to disappear.

"Keep 'em coming," I insisted. My voice sounded far away.

Angus refilled my cup and pushed it towards me.

I didn't feel guilty at all, like I'd expected. It was kind of liberating actually. And it took my mind off things.

I desperately needed that.

Within seconds, the next cup was gone.

And the next.

And the rest was history.


	9. Chapter 8

I didn't open my eyes when I woke up.

Partly because I wasn't fully conscious and didn't know what was going on.

But also because of the awful pain bouncing around the walls of my skull.

I felt a warm, dry hand smooth over my forehead. Under normal circumstances, I would have jumped in shock.

Instead, I just opened my eyes and breathed, "What the f-?"

The swear died on my tongue when I saw who exactly was hovering over me. I swallowed, desperately trying to relieve the aching dryness of my throat so I could speak.

"Remus?" I said. My voice rattled hoarsely and came out much more quietly than I expected. "What's going on?"

I looked over his shoulder, trying to see what was happening, but I only ended up cringing. The soft light of the room- The Gryffindor common room, I realized- seemed much harsher than usual. It sent a new wave of agony through my head.

I focused on Remus again, staring solely into his eyes because moving them anywhere else hurt. What I saw there was a mixture of concern and anger.

"Are you alright?" He asked me. I was becoming aware that there were voices appearing throughout the room. Ignoring the pain, I took in my surroundings.

It was an absolute _wreck. _There were students all over the room, all of them lying passed out on the floor or on couches. The couches that weren't occupied by people were tipped over. One of them was stuck to the ceilingl. To this day I don't know why or how.

Then I remembered.

The party.

The weightless sensation, as if I was flying.

Oh, yeah. The Firewhiskey.

Oh, yeah.

Dread sank into my stomach when I saw other Professors milling about the room, inspecting the bar in the corner and waking students with sharp reprimands. We'd been caught.

"Marcia," Remus said, bringing me back to the present.

I took a deep breath. "I'm fine. I feel awful, but I'm fine."

"Can you stand?" He continued. I was suddenly aware of our close proximity; I felt my face flood with heat.

"Yeah." My voice came out mumbled and embarrassed. I propped myself up on my forearms, flinching as I did so.

Remus stood and held out his hand. The gesture reminded me of the day we had met. When I was a little-too-quiet, little-too-pudgy twelve year old.

What happened?

I took his hand and allowed him to pull me to my feet. I closed my eyes for a moment, fighting the urge to lean onto his sturdy strength when the throbbing in my head increased.

"Wait here. I'll be right back," Remus said, leading me to an empty couch that was still upright. I took a seat and followed him with my eyes; he was heading towards Headmistress McGonagall. I wearily wondered what they were talking about, but let my eyes and my mind wander around the room.

I saw Kenna still asleep on the floor, an empty mug loosely held in her palm. She was the only one of my friends present, though. Angus, Ben, Bridget, and Adrian were nowhere in sight.

Adrian. Wait... what happened?

I squeezed my eyes shut again, straining to revoke the events of the night before.

I could remember darkness and loud music and dancing. I tried to put myself back into the moment; every bark of laughter, every breathless declaration, every drop of sweat shed. Adrian's eyes, dark and very, very close.

Our foreheads touching, slick from perspiration.

My hands; on his chest, on his shoulders, knotting in his hair.

His hands; on my cheeks, on my hips, running up my spine...

Oh, Merlin. What _happened?_

"Marcia," Remus said. I opened my eyes and he was standing in front of me.

"I got the Headmistress's permission to let you come to my quarters to deal your punishment."

I was relieved. I didn't expect him to go easy on me, I wouldn't want him to. It'd make me feel incredibly guilty. But at least it was Remus.

I got to my feet again and followed Remus out of the common room.

Every step down the halls echoed against the columns and stone walls; every step was torture.

Not just because of the headache. Though we were both silent, I could practically feel the tense silence hanging between us.

_He's disappointed in me. _

The thought hurt, but it was true. He wasn't making an attempt to comfort me, to tell me it'd be ok.

_What, _I bitterly said to myself, _were you expecting him to?_

I realized I had, and I was a fool. It was my choice to get drunk and I had to stop moping and take responsibility for it.

Remus unlocked the door to his quarters and gestured for me to enter. I did so, taking a seat like I always did on the tattered couch where I would sit and drink tea and talk with him some days after class.

He walked to the kitchen and returned in a couple minutes with a glass of violet liquid. He handed it to me.

"What is this?" I asked wearily.

"Hangover remedy," He responded. It smelled vile. I downed the glass; it didn't taste any better than it's aroma suggested. Remus was ready with a glass of water and I drained half of that.

He took a seat across from me, like he always did.

Usually when he sat there his eyes sparkled with laughter or joy or kindness. Now they were frowning and serious.

What in the hell happened?

"Marcia," he said. "What happened?"

I swallowed painfully. "I don't really remember."

"Anything at all? Start at the beginning."

I closed my eyes and pictured it. "I walked into the party and stayed my the sidelines for a while. Then Angus came in and his friends brought in Firewhiskey; loads of it. I didn't know it was going to be there. So I confronted Angus and... ended up having... a few mugs of it."

There was silence, so I opened my eyes. His expression... well, he had no expression. His face was completely void of emotion, a blank mask. I didn't know how to react to this.

"But why did you drink it?" He asked flatly.

I looked down at my lap, where my hands were clasped so tightly they were white and turning purple at the fingers.

"Marcia," he pressed. I could detect a trace of feeling in his voice. I didn't look at him.

"Marce. Is something wrong? You can tell me anything." I raised my eyes. His were impossibly sad, always sad. Why?

"I know," I whispered. "And so can you."

He visibly tensed and shut down. "This isn't about me."

"Remus, I'm not going to divulge my problems to you for solving and just let you sit there and listen. That wouldn't make you my friend, that would make you my therapist!" I was shouting now.

I forced myself to calm down and said quietly, "I'll tell you if you tell me."

Remus sighed and rubbed his face. "Marcia, please. You don't want to get involved in my issues."

"Don't patronize me," I said. "Please. Just... tell me. I'm you're friend."

He stared at me for a few moments, and I held it. He let out a puff of air, of resignation.

"Fine," He said, "But not right now. You're too tired, I'm too tired. Unfortunately, I do still have to give you your punishment."

He contemplated for a moment, then said, "For three weeks you have to come to my classroom everyday after dinner and grade the papers."

"Alright," I said. It wasn't that bad. I stood and walked to the door with him following. I turned to face him when I was right against the doorknob.

"Thank you," I said. It came out as a wisp when I realized how close he was.

Remus smiled slightly. "For what?" He murmured.

"I don't know yet," I replied, my voice just as quiet. "But thank you."

* * *

><p><strong>To any people who do follow this story, I'm sorry for the long delays between chapters. I just need motivation.<strong>

**All I'm saying is by "All You Need is Love," I think the Beatles meant "All You Need is Love and Reviews."**


	10. Chapter 9

I wanted to sleep.

I wanted to run to the dorm, fall on my bed (or, at least, the nearest one), and sleep the rest of the day.

But I had things to do before I could ever fall asleep. I rested my body against the stone wall, closing my eyes, and made a mental list.

1. Go back to the dorm and take of this dress.

2. Find Adrian and ask him if anything... went on between us last night.

I let out a puff of air and continued along the corridors and when I saw the Fat Lady I practically ran to her. I gave her the password in a rush and hurried inside.

The common room, to my surprise, was almost completely cleaned and back to normal. There were still a few hungover witches and wizards waking groggily, but otherwise you could never tell what went on just hours before.

I walked past all of them and up the stairs to the girl's dorm. The room, to my surprise, was empty. Well, except for one witch.

Bridget was sitting on her bed, barefoot, still in her purple dress. Her knees were pulled up to her chest and she was staring blankly out the window.

"Bridge," I said quietly. She didn't budge. I moved across the room and took a seat beside her.

"Are you alright?" I asked. She looked at me now, a shadow of guilt and sadness in her chestnut eyes.

"What's wrong? Did something happen?" I was getting worried now.

She squeezed her knees tighter to her body. "I..." She almost said something, but shut her mouth.

"What happened? Please tell me." I pressed. _Sheesh, what's with all these interrogations lately?_

She sighed and let go of her legs, letting them hang over the edge of the bed. "Yeah... something happened."

I looked at her, waiting for her to continue. She opened her mouth, closed it, and opened it again, saying,

"I had sex last night."

I was shocked into silence.

All of us in our group of friends, except Adrian and, I suspected, Kenna, were virgins.

_Did she just... did I hear her right?_

"Wait, wha-? What... with- with who?" I managed, turning my body fully to face her.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "The person in the world I would least like to have sex with."

I racked my brain, but I was too hungover to think straight, even after the potion Remus gave me.

She finally just told me. "I slept with Angus."

No way.

No way in hell would Bridget, stubborn and witty and proud Bridget Goodwin, ever sleep with Angus, arrogant and charming and admittedly sexy Angus Aguistin.

She hated his guts.

Or maybe... I didn't know as much about my friends as I thought I did.

"Oh god, Bridget. You can't be serious." Not very supportive, I know, but I couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Unfortunately, I am," She muttered bitterly.

"It was a mistake," she continued, "a drunken mistake. There was no love, no affection, no sleeping in each other's arms. We snuck into the Room of Requirement, fucked, and he left."

Then she laughed, a short humorless bark. "But did I expect it to be anything more? Of course not."

And she put her head in her hands and burst into tears.

I hugged her to me and rubbed her back soothingly. I imagined how awful this must be. For her to imagine for all her life giving her first time to someone she loved, and to lose it unexpectedly in a drunken haze...

So much had happened because of that party.

It felt like our whole world had turned to shit in just one night.

* * *

><p>I finally got out of that stupid dress.<p>

Bridget was asleep in her bed and I was on my way outside, where she said she'd last seen Adrian.

I had a hunch where I might find him.

It turned out I was right; he was next to the lake in the same place he'd drawn me.

I silently came up behind him, looking at the curve of his back through his shirt and the mess of his hair. When he didn't use a straightening charm it dried into little black curls and waves, which was how it looked now.

I secretly found it adorable.

He turned around and didn't look surprised when he noticed me.

"Hi," I said.

"Hi," he echoed, patting the empty spot next to him. I sat down, making sure I wasn't too close to him but not too far away either.

"You feeling ok?" He asked.

I didn't look at him for fear of doing or saying something idiotic. "Yeah, I'm better now. It was awful when I woke up."

I asked, "Are you ok?"

I saw him nod out of the corner of my eye. "I'm fine," he confirmed, then chuckled, "It never gets better, but you get used to it."

I wondered how many times he'd been drunk, how many one night stands he'd had. I didn't ask though; it felt too personal.

And maybe I was afraid of the answer.

He threw a stone into the water. The result was an anticlimatic plunk.

The silence was too much.

"Adrian?" I said finally, turning my head to look at him. He faced me too, and I met his eyes.

"Yes?" He prompted. I think he knew what was coming.

"Last night... you know, at the party... I was wondering- well, I can't remember... uh..."

I swallowed. "Did we... have sex?"

His expression didn't change. "No," he responded, turning his head to the lake to throw another rock.

"But," he said. My heart caught in my throat. "We did do this."

And then he kissed me.

His lips were soft and cool, right on mine. They felt familiar somehow.

_Adrian _kissed _me. _

Everything else in the world stopped in its tracks.

It took me a moment to overcome my shock to close my eyes and kiss him back.

It was over as soon as it had started.

I pulled back slowly and opened my eyes. I met his right away.

"That wasn't our first kiss," he said, very quietly.

I bit my lip. "I don't want this to ruin us. Can we still be friends?"

Our faces were still just inches apart. He leaned back and settled in his former position, looking out at the lake and tossing in another stone.

"Of course we can, don't worry. We were drunk. It meant nothing."

For some reason, that hurt.

* * *

><p>No wonder kissing him felt familiar. We must have kissed last night.<p>

But why was the feel of his lips was the only thing I could remember...?


End file.
